This is the Real World!
by Austin Lee
Summary: In a world where superheroes exist only in fiction, one ordinary college student finds himself given the powers of Spider-Man by pure chance.


I see myself everyday now. He's everywhere, and he is me.  
  
Spider-Man.  
  
Not really me, but an actor who is playing a character invented in the 1960s is everywhere- commercials, the Internet, magazines. And now I am Spider-Man.  
  
It wasn't as great as I thought it would be.  
  
First things first- my name is Joel Raymond. I am a 21 year college student in Columbia University, right in good old New York city(oddly enough, web- head's alma mater in the comic).  
  
It is too fitting that I wear the mantle of the Web-slinger. I am like Peter Parker in the flesh. Always picked on, ignored by girls, friendless. Well, not really friendless. I have one friend. A good friend who I met two years ago. His name's Mark Aaronson. He's probably the most anti-clique guy you would ever hope to meet- he simply doesn not care about following a certain group. I am a husky, pimply loser who knows my problem, but not how to get out of it. He is a handsome, athletic guy who will never understand my problems- it baffles him why I have so much trouble getting a girl to talk to me when in the time it takes for me to have a conversation with them(admittedly a long time, since I have to chase them to have a convo), he could get the same girl in bed. But he's a nice guy, who likes me because I'm the only guy he can have a good conversation with- so thank God for him.  
  
But my story started one day in a random study hall on campus. I'm actually a biology major, and I won't bore you with how interseting I find stuff like photosynthesis and fluid viscosity. Anyway, it was an unremarkable beginning to a remarkable story.  
  
I was studying. Not for a test, just studying. Frankly, though I love biology, but it irks me I have to prove myself in a semester long course by restating facts.So I study an hour a day regardless even after a test.  
  
And so it began. With a sharp pain in my scalp. It felt like I'd been poked by two sewing needles. Two very long, red hot sewing needles.  
  
Instinctively, I reached up and swatted at it, but already, it was gone. What was it?  
  
A spider. It had jumped out of my hair immediately after biting me- it had literally went through my spread fingers. If I had closed my fingers a little, I would have gotten it. but as it was, it landed right on the wall next to me. I had time to see that it was fucking huge- it was bigger than the average household spider, with a black body and yellow markings. It scampered up the wall, and I quickly memorized what it looked like, because I would have to go to the hospital if it was a poisonous variety.  
  
I wanted to smash it so bad, but I was too repulsed by its unusual appearance and its speed to react quick enough. In two seconds, it was out of my reach, going up the wall and up to the second floor, under a railing that allowed one to look down on the study area. I hope somebody squished the little bastard.  
  
I packed up my books and went to the library to look up the breed of spider. When I got there, I immediately hopped on on of the internet computers and began my search.  
  
When I typed in "spider" in Yahoo! I got more results pertaining to Spider- Man and the Spider-Man movie than stuff about actual spiders. Kind of silly, when you consider that there is something like 50,000 spiders per square acre of land.  
  
I searched and I searched, but had little luck. A few had the markings, but not the thick legs. Others had the legs, but not the markings.  
  
"What's up?" came a voice behind me. I turned, and Mark was standing behind me. His black hair he had recently cut from shoulder length to short and spiky crowned a face that was not model-handsome, but charming nonetheless. Sometimes I put myself down, wishing I had model looks, but I realized that there is room for uniqueness in a woman's tastes, as Mark proved. If only I could lose weight- then I could be sure whether or not I was really handsome or not.  
  
Mark sat down next to me at the next computer.  
  
"What are you slummin' here for?" he asked. "What's wrong with your computer?"  
  
"Nothing. Just was in a hurry to check something," I said. My dorm was all the way aross campus.  
  
"That sucks," said Mark. "What about that girl in your Comp class you've been telling me about? The dark-haired one? Ask her out yet?"  
  
"Yeah," I sighed, hanging my head. "She has a boyfriend. He goes to NYU."  
  
"Oh, I'm sorry. Want me to kill him?" he said, with a grin.  
  
"Oh, sure," I said. "Yeah, her name's Teena. Teena Willis."  
  
Suddenly, the smile disappeared from his face.  
  
"Teena spelled T-E-E-N-A?" he asked.  
  
"That's her," I said. "Why?"  
  
"Oh, nothing," he said, avoiding my eyes.  
  
"Oh, nothing, my ass. Go ahead and tell me," I said, fearing what he was about to say.  
  
"Well, I kind of ran into her at the lunch room. She sat down with me and we talked for awhile. She said she'd been single for a few months and was looking for somebody to hang out with over Spring Break. She gave me her number. I didn't ask for it, but she gave it to me anyway.I didn't want it- she seemed too immature for me."  
  
Bastard. It's easy to pretend at least that the reason I'm still single is the fact that all the girls I know have boyfriends. Thanks for confirming that chicks do indeed lie to me.  
  
"If I was ever going to call her, I won't now," he said. "She's a bitch for lying to you. She's not worth your time."  
  
I wanted to say that since so many girls have said that to me and most assuredly so many of them were lying, does that make them all bitches? Can you not comprehend that some of us can't get girls to jump us after five minutes? That a girl is not a bitch simply because she won't date me?  
  
But I don't say anything. I think I'm going to turn him into a misogynist, if I keep telling him about my women troubles. He's fiercely protective of me like a little brother(though there is only a one year age difference). Since he has a track record of 9/10 in terms or success with women(though it's a lot more than 9 women that he's been with), he'll never understand how hard it is for me.  
  
"Are you still running?" he asked. I had taken up jogging in an attempt to lose weight.  
  
"Uh, yeah," I said.  
  
"remember- 5 miles a day will get you in shape in no time," he said.  
  
I roll my eyes. "I can barely do one right now- I think I'll need a little more than 'no time'."  
  
"Remember Leslie Carson?" I ask him,wanting to change the subject. Leslie Carson was my crush all throughout high school. Long, corn silk hair, sky blue eyes, a wonderful, heart shaped face and an awesome body topped by a sweet smile, and navigated by a sweet and kind personality.  
  
"Yeah, I remember her," he said with a smile. "Did you see her today?"  
  
"Yeah. She's getting married," I say, with an audible sigh. "The race of woman has no good news for me today, at all."  
  
"Oh, I'm sorry," he said. "Then she wasn't the one for you, I guess."  
  
I say nothing. We've had this conversation far too many times.  
  
But we chit-chat a little more, while I surf the Net all the while. And I almost start to tune him out when I realize that the spider I saw is not on any of the charts.  
  
I excuse myself- I skipped my shower this morning when I was late for class, and my skin is so oily that I feel cruddy without having had it.  
  
Ah, who am I whining about? Didn't It's A Wonderful Life say that no man is poor as long as he has friends? But still...  
  
  
  
I got into my shower, banging my head into the wall in frustration(not hard), tears mixing with the scalding water. Why can't I grow to accept my loneliness like the D&D nerds seem able to do? I want to share something  
  
I look up, and immediately, my vision starts to spin like I got up too fast. But all I did was raise my head. I shut off the shower, and start to open the door, but before I do, blackness overtakes me.  
  
I wake up. The haze that brought me out of consciousness is no longer there- suddenly, I snap awake. The first thing I notice is the smell. I look down at myself- I am covered with a foul smelling brown-  
  
Oh, man. talk about undignified. I immediately get up, and turn the shower on, the feces running off of my body. I look at it, and realize something- it's not normal human excrement. and if I had shit myself, I wouldn't be covered from head to toe.  
  
And as I scrub it off, I realize that my body feels harder. And it hits me.  
  
The fat is gone, replace with muscle.  
  
Stunned, I get the rest of the sludge off, and I jump out of the shower, and look at my new form in the mirror.  
  
I had a gymnast's build- muscular, but still seeming to be agile and quick. I turn around and look at my ass in the mirror.  
  
What do my ass and my car have in common? Now, at least, they look like they're made of steel.  
  
I laugh. This was happening all to fast to think about- my mind was going from worried to shocked, to amazed over and over again. But whatever this is, it's a good thing. For right now.  
  
I think about my body for a moment- I wonder- where did the fat go? And I can only come up with one possible answer- to feed my new body, it had to eat the fat. And after it got what it needed out of it, I sweated it out through my pores. Since excrement is the non-essential components of the food we eat, that would explain the smell amd similarity.  
  
I get out of the bathroom, dry off, and put on some shorts. I can't wear any of my old underwear- they're like windsails on me. What a difference 15 pounds can make. And I look at my new build. I may look good, but do I have the physicalality to back it up?  
  
I think- can I...?  
  
And I answer my own question, by immediately doing a split. Not a slow one, I do it really fast. I put a hand on the ground, and use it to lift myself off the ground enough to spin the left leg to my right, bringing them together. I then lower my head.... And I can do it! I can rest my head on my knees. I remember only ever seeing a few people ever able to do that.  
  
I spread my legs wide, and still I'm able to rest my head on the ground without feeling much of a stretch.  
  
That does it- I let out a whoop, and roll onto my back, and do one of those kick flips you see in martial arts ovies that brings me to my feet.  
  
Over the next few minutes- I do it all- contorting my body in ways that can only be done after years of martial arts, dance, and gymnastic training. And I find that I'm inhumanly strong now. I do push-ups.  
  
On my thumb and index fingers  
  
With my legs straight up in the air.  
  
And finally, it hits me.  
  
The spider.  
  
I think back, wondering if the events of the day were a dream. But I think that the smell at the beggining was enough to prove that this is not a dream,  
  
FACT: I was bitten by a spider.  
  
FACT: Not long after, I pass out.  
  
FACT: I wake up with the body of an Adonis, and strenght an agility surpassing any Olympian.  
  
FACT: When I woke up, my body had expelled the fat through a highly unnatural means.  
  
FACT: I'm just now noticing this- my skin has cleared. No longer bumpy and oily, it is now clean and smooth.  
  
So what does it all mean?  
  
I have an idea, however implausible. It was the spider. Just like Spider- Man. Now I have Spider-Man like strength and agility...but....  
  
I immediately turn to the wall, and think about what I saw Tobey Maguire do in the movie trailer. I look at my hand, and don't see any little hairs sticking out that would allow me to attach myself to the wall.  
  
But then again, did the comic-book Spider Man shit through his pores when he changed?  
  
So taking a chance, I put my hand on the wall- and I hear it stick. I pull it back, and hear a sound like a band-aid being pulled off. I look at my hands, and see nothing, but I see five glistening sticky spots on the wall where my fingers were.  
  
What the hell. I place my hands on the wall, and start to climb. Holy shit! HOLY SHIT!! I'm doing it! I'M DOING IT!!  
  
And I crawl up the wall- and across the ceiling of my dorm. Laughing hysterically, I pull my hands free and flip in mid-air, landing on my feet. I look at the walls, and I see more glistening spots- but the ones where I started are fading. I look at them- they seem to be both fading and breaking apart.  
  
OK, so I can also stick to walls because my fingers excrete some kind of super adhesive.  
  
What else can I do? My thoughts are cut short by my phone ringing. It turns out to be my roommate, Ed.  
  
"I'm downloading 'Lord of the Rings' off of KaZaA," he said. "Is it ready yet?"  
  
I look over to his computer. After reading what else he was downloading, I laughed.  
  
"No, but the Jenna Jameson/Ron Jeremy titfuck/facial is done." I reply with a laugh.  
  
"Oh, cool,"he said. "I was just checking. Bye." With that, he hung up. As I placed the phone back in its cradle, I realize it's stuck to my hand. I try to pull it off, and I see the sticky secretion stretch and snap as I tear the phone loose.  
  
I look at my hands, and they are glistening. I shake them, but it won't come off. OK, shaking them was the best I could come up with in this totally alien situation). Finally, I wish it would go away, instead of trying to make it.  
  
And it does. As I watch, the secretion is sucked into my palms, like it was reabsorbed.  
  
OK, this is going to take some getting used to, no matter how cool it is. And I need to think about this some more. So Im going to put my pen down for awhile, and gather my thoughts.  
  
  
  
OK, this story is not a self-insertion fic, but rather a postulation a la Unbreakable about what might happen if superheroes were real. I actually have a few funny and serious ideas about what happens when Joel starts to use his powers. He thinks of himself as Spider-man by the time he looks back on these events and starts writing this, but do you think Marvel would let him get away with that? 


End file.
